Devil's Fancy (Trackdown Book 2)

by Michael A. Black

  His cell phone woke him and he stared at the screen in disbelief.

  Was it really fifteen-thirty?

  He punched the icon and heard Mac’s chuckle coming from the phone.

  “They let you sleep like that in the Rangers?” he asked.

  Wolf yawned. “I can’t believe I’ve been out this long. Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “Aw, hell, after what you told me, and then talking to Ms. Dolly, I figured you earned the rest. She sends her regards, by the way, and says you saved the day.”

  “Hardly,” Wolf said. “More like the other way around.”

  “She also gave me fair warning she’s gonna steal you away from me.”

  Wolf hadn’t been expecting that. Maybe she’d been sincere about the job offer before and he was tempted. It would be one way to get away from the Wicked Witch of the East. But he could hardly tell Mac that.

  “Ain’t gonna happen until I pay you back,” Wolf said. “In fact, I probably should be paying you rent now.”

  “Hey, like I said before, we’ll worry about that once we get you back on your feet. And me, too.” He laughed again. “Did I tell you that my ankle’s good to go? Well, almost. But that little after-midnight exercise seemed to pop everything back into place. I got an elastic bandage on it now and it’s feeling great.”

  Wolf’s head was starting to clear and he had a bunch of questions he wanted to ask.

  “Come on up and I’ll make some coffee,” he said. “We can figure out our next move.”

  “I already got our first move,” McNamara said. “We’re gonna see if Manny can get us any info on this burglar guy, but first, look out the window.”

  Wolf got out of bed and padded over. He looked down in the driveway and saw McNamara standing next to a brand-new silver BMW X-6.

  “Where’d you get that?” he asked.

  “Lonnie Coats,” McNamara said. “I put in a good word with Manny when we dropped him off, and Manny reposted his bond. After you told me about the Escalade, I called him and asked if he had a loaner, and he give me this baby.”

  “Sweet.”

  “See? It’s like I always say it pays to be nice to people because you never know when you’ll need a favor down the road.”

  “Let’s hope we don’t have to call for a tow truck then,” Wolf said.

  Office of Emmanuel Sutter

  Phoenix, Arizona

  Manny stirred the plastic fork through the leafy assortment of vegetables in the bowl on his desk. He picked up a packet of dressing, looked at it, then clamped his teeth on one end and pulled. Some of the orange liquid squirted out and onto some papers on his desk.

  “God dammit,” he said, and then squeezed the rest of the contents over the lettuce. “Fucking Paul Newman. What the hell did he know about fucking salad dressing?”

  “Since when did you start eating salads?” McNamara asked.

  He and Wolf sat in the two chairs in front of Manny’s big desk and Wolf was glad he wasn’t within squeezing range.

  “Doctor’s orders,” Manny said. “I gotta lose some weight and cut down on my sugar. Otherwise there’s a chance I could get diabetes.”

  “That’s nothing to fool with,” McNamara said.

  “Tell me about it.” Manny glanced over his shoulder at his nephew and then said, “Hey, Sherman, go get me one of them paper towels, will ya? You forgot the napkins again.”

  Freddie pursed his lips as he got up, glaring back at his uncle. “It’s Fred, not Sherman.”

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  As soon as Freddie had gone to the closet and stuck his head in the open door, Manny pushed himself back from his desk, pulled open the top drawer, and removed a long, flat candy bar. He winked at Wolf and McNamara as he swiftly unwrapped it, broke off several chunks, and dropped them into the salad.

  “If I cheat on my diet,” he said with a wink as he concealed the half-gone candy bar under his desk, Sherman here will rat me out to his mother, and she, in turn, will tell my old lady.”

  You can’t cheat the grim reaper, Wolf thought, and figured that Manny’s diet plans weren’t headed for a happy ending. Neither was his health.

  “So like I was saying,” Manny continued, still stirring the vegetables around with his fork. “Ms. Dolly called me. I heard about your little shootout.”

  “It wasn’t so little,” Wolf said.

  “So I heard.” Manny finally shoved some of the salad into his mouth, which remained partially open while he chewed and spoke. “Ms. Dolly said you thought the guys mighta been mafia?”

  “It’s anybody’s guess,” Wolf said. “But what I couldn’t figure out was how they knew we’d be transporting Willard on that route.”

  “Willard,” Manny said, and stuffed some chocolate laden lettuce into his wide-open mouth. “Ain’t that a funny name?”

  “Funny guy, too,” Wolf said. “Pissed his pants.”

  Manny laughed, expelling a few chunks onto his paper-strewn desktop. “Ain’t that the luck?”

  “Actually, it was,” Wolf said. “One of the gunmen ended up slipping in it and I was able to get his gun away from him.”

  Manny leaned back and laughed so hard Wolf was worried he was going to topple over. When he shifted back to his regular posture, he slammed both of his massive forearms onto the desk and said, “So what brings you two gents here now?”

  “I shot a burglar in my house last night,” McNamara said.

  “No shit?” Manny plucked a few pieces of chocolate from the salad and tossed them into his mouth.

  “And at the same time,” Wolf said, “three guys attacked me on the freeway.”

  McNamara leaned forward. “Like we said, those bastards knew exactly where to find Steve and the crew last night. And the only place we went after nabbing him, was here.”

  Manny’s eyebrows rose. “You don’t think that I ratted you out, do ya?”

  “I don’t know,” McNamara said. “Did ya?”

  “Hell no.”

  Wolf could see the color rising along Manny’s cheeks and neck.

  “Did you call anybody and tell them?” Wolf asked. “Maybe drop a hint that we’d be driving?”

  “Huh?” Manny’s face scrunched up, then dropped back to normal. “Well, I did call the Pope to tell him you was on your way, but Ms. Dolly told me to do that.”

  “And you gave him the route?” Wolf asked.

  “Well, yeah. He asked, so I told him.”

  McNamara slammed his open palm down on the desk so hard that it caused the plastic salad tray to jump. Something fell to the floor from under the desk.

  Wolf reached down and picked it up. It was two small, circular devices stuck together. They were about the size of a quarter, and the one on top had a small netted circle off to one side.

  “What the hell?” Manny said. “Lemme see that.”

  Wolf handed it to him and Manny rolled it around his palm.

  “This is a fucking bug,” he said. “A listening device.”

  He whirled around on his chair. “Sherman, you put this in here?”

  “What? No.”

  “Then how in the fuck?” He dropped the bug onto the floor and stomped on it.

  “I found a tracker on my car, too,” McNamara said. “It’s gotta be tied together.”

  “You know,” Freddie said. “Come to think of it, that one Aussie guy was monkeying around over there while you was in the john.”

  Wolf was confused. Aussie guy?

  “And you didn’t fucking tell me?” Manny rose from the desk like a behemoth and strode across the small space separating the two of them, cocking his right arm back. “Why, I oughta kick your—”

  “Manny, it’s not his fault,” Wolf said. “These guys are pretty slick. Pros.”

  Manny kept glaring down at Freddie, who had an expression like a fearful puppy.

  “If you wasn’t my sister’s kid …” Manny said finally and then traipsed back to his chair. He settled into it with a tremendous plop,
sending the chair’s metal framework into what almost sounded like a scream for mercy.

  “You think it was the Outfit?” Manny asked. “The Mafia?”

  Wolf shrugged. It was like they were trying to put together a jig-saw puzzle without an overall picture of what it was supposed to be, but he was leery of divulging too much to Manny.

  “Somebody’s stalking us,” McNamara said. “And we don’t even know who the hell it is.”

  “But now we know how,” Wolf said. “All we gotta find out is why.”

  “How you gonna do that?” Manny asked.

  “You got contacts in the PD,” McNamara said. “Do me a favor and call one of them. Find out where they’re keeping that guy I shot and anything else you can find out.”

  “I’ll get on it,” Manny said, stirring the salad some more.

  “Now,” McNamara said in a voice that meant business.

  “Okay,” Manny said, setting the salad aside and reaching for his phone. “Now it is.”

  Office of Rodney F. Shemp

  Attorney at Law

  Phoenix, Arizona

  “We gotta interrogate that prisoner,” McNamara said in a stentorian voice. “And according to the cops, he’s already lawyered-up.”

  Wolf actually felt sorry for poor Shemp as Mac leaned over the guy’s desk and continued to address him.

  “Listen, Rodney,” McNamara said. “I told you this ain’t gonna take that long. We just need you to get us past the police guard.”

  “But I’m not even the arrested man’s attorney,” Shemp said, leaning back in his chair. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, which was rapidly flagging in places, and a red necktie. “Besides, Mr. McNamara, I’m supposed to pick up Kasey at six-thirty. It’s important.”

  McNamara raised an eyebrow.

  “Important?” he repeated. “How so?”

  Shemp’s eyes darted to Wolf, then back to McNamara, and then downward.

  “We’re … I’m … You see—”

  “Spit it out, dammit,” McNamara said. “We’re talking about my little girl here.”

  “I’m going to ask her to marry me tonight,” Shemp blurted out.

  McNamara stood silent, eying the man for several seconds, then his head began a slow rocking.

  “Well,” he said. “From a father’s perspective, it’s good to know you have honorable intentions regarding my daughter.”

  A weak smile formed on Shemp’s lips then vanished.

  “I didn’t mean to be so vociferous,” he said. “But you see, I have to get home and shower and change and—”

  “And nothing,” McNamara said. “I’m giving you my blessings. She needs a good strong man she can depend on.”

  Shemp’s smile returned, but it was still tentative.

  “So,” McNamara said, extending his big open palm. “Welcome to the family.”

  Shemp took McNamara’s hand and immediately grimaced.

  Wolf knew from experience that Mac had one of the strongest grips he’d ever had the misfortune of feeling.

  Shemp was still wincing as McNamara raised his arm upward, bringing Shemp out of the chair.

  “So here’s the way this evening’s gonna play out, Rodney,” he said. “You, me, and Steve are gonna take a little ride over to St. Francis Hospital, which is only a few blocks out of your way, right?”

  “Well, it’s actually not—” Shemp stopped talking and went up on his toes. McNamara was still pumping the man’s arm.

  “Not what, Rodney?” Mac asked, a big smile stretched across his face.

  “It’s not,” Shemp said, “that far out of my way, I suppose.”

  “Now we’re talking,” McNamara said and winked at Wolf.

  Outside the Office of Rodney F. Shemp

  Attorney at Law

  Phoenix, Arizona

  “Isn’t that Wolf and McNamara with the lawyer?” Preetorius asked from the front seat in the van. They were parked about fifty feet away from the front of the lawyer’s office.

  Cummins felt a surge of panic even though he was in the back seat of the van and mostly concealed by Zerbe and Preetorius. The last thing he needed was for that one-man killing machine to see him or Zerbe. Even though both of them in the front seat were armed, and Preetorius was huge, he wasn’t sure he could stop Wolf. Eagan had been big, too, and look how easily Wolf had taken him out.

  “Duck down, or something,” Cummins said. “What if he sees you?”

  “Relax,” Zerbe said. “I’ve got my contacts in and combed my hair differently. No way they’ll recognize me. And they’ve never seen Luan.”

  Cummins noticed that Zerbe did slip on a baseball cap and pull it down over his forehead.

  “Looks like they’re getting into two different vehicles,” Preetorius said. He was dressed in hospital scrubs in anticipation of his visit to his wounded comrade. “McNamara and the lawyer in one and Wolf in the other. A BMW.”

  “Let’s see if they’re splitting up,” Zerbe said. “If they do, we follow Wolf and try to put a tracker on his new beamer.”

  Cummins scrunched down as best he could. This van had dark windows and he felt fairly invisible behind the tint. Two cars passed, one of them the beamer.

  Wolf driving a BMW, Cummins thought, as a shiver ran through him.

  What if Wolf discovered the artifact and was now anticipating making a deal of his own? But he didn’t know Von Dien … Or did he? There was no telling how much information Eagan might have given him in Mexico before Wolf killed him. Cummins debated whether or not to bring this up to Zerbe and decided against it. But he had to start planning an exit strategy for himself.

  They followed the BMW through the city streets for several blocks until Shemp’s car and Wolf’s both turned right into the parking lot of St. Francis Hospital.

  “This is working out better than we expected,” Preetorius said, activating his own turn signal and entering the parking lot.

  “All roads lead to Rome,” Zerbe said.

  Rome …

  Cummins wasn’t totally comfortable with that metaphor. Right now he was feeling a bit like Nero.

  The woman at the front desk was hesitant, at first, to give out the room number for the patient in police custody. Manny had found out that the police were holding him as John Doe because thus far he’d either been unable or unwilling to give his real name. Shemp showed her his Bar Association card and she eyed Wolf and McNamara with suspicion.

  “These are my associates,” Shemp said.

  The woman’s fingers tapped over the keyboard and then she reluctantly told them it was Room 628.

  As they headed for the elevators McNamara reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black velvet box. He slapped Wolf’s arm as they entered the elevator car.

  “Look at this,” he said, popping the box open to display an eloquently cut diamond set in a ring of white gold. “Ain’t that a nice-looking rock he’s got for my little girl?”

  “It is,” Wolf said. “But why you holding it?”

  “So I could show it to you, of course,” McNamara said. He popped the box closed and slipping it back into the pocket of his BDU blouse.

  Shemp’s brow furrowed and he bit his lip.

  “Ah, Mr. McNamara—” Shemp started to say.

  “Hell, son,” McNamara said. “Since we’re gonna be family, you’d better start calling me Mac.”

  Shemp nodded and swallowed.

  “The ring, Mac,” he said. “I’d like to keep it.”

  “Keep it?” McNamara grinned at Wolf. “I thought you were gonna give it to Kasey?”

  “Well, I am, but—”

  “Mac,” Wolf said. “Give him back the ring. The guy’s doing us a favor here and you’re being a bully.”

  McNamara looked artificially wounded. “Me? A bully? I thought I was just being a father.”

  He reached into his pocket, withdrew the ring, and handed it to Shemp. Then he leaned close and said, “You better be good to her. She’s my little girl.�
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  Shemp flashed another weak smile and slipped the ring into his pants pocket. He was still wearing his gray suit, white shirt, and red necktie, although the collar of the shirt was sweat-stained and starting to wilt. Wolf hoped he wasn’t getting cold feet about the whole thing. Having Kasey happily married and out of the picture would make things a whole lot easier in his world. He’d have to have a talk with Mac and tell him to quit being the prospective father-in-law from hell.

  “Rod,” Wolf said, glancing from Shemp to McNamara to Shemp again. “We appreciate you doing this.”

  Shemp nodded and the elevator doors opened.

  The uniformed police officer in front of Room 628 looked young and bored. He was a good-looking guy and was holding his hat in his hand while conversing with a young and very pretty nurse. He straightened up when Wolf, Mac, and Shemp walked up and slipped the hat back on his head.

  “May I help you?” he said.

  Shemp held up his bar Association card and identified himself as a lawyer needing to speak to Mr. John Doe, who was in need of and had requested legal counsel.

  The young officer stared at the card intently and then scribbled down the name in a small notebook.

  “Who are these guys?” he asked, cocking his head toward Wolf and McNamara.

  “They’re my associates,” Shemp said.

  He shot a nervous glance at McNamara, who said, “If you need to pat us down, feel free, officer. I left my gun in the car.”

  The cop’s eyes widened and then he smiled as McNamara let out a friendly laugh, bridging the gap with the implied brotherhood of two men who knew what it was like standing guard on the line.

  The unspoken camaraderie of mutual respect, Wolf thought. Mac’s experience as a leader of men seemed to automatically place him above question to most who’d been there.

  McNamara lifted his arms and the cop did a quick pat-down of him, then Wolf, and finally Shemp.